In a Risky Rhythm

She kissed the kiln and fired her tongue in sparks which lit the rhythm stream and reeked of rancid gasoline and the blue of honest fire She danced in shoes of kerosene her heels in flint, her soles in sheen as barefoot she would always be to tattoo the earth with toe prints She missed the mark and shot the sun (which swallowed the fire come undone) and swept up ashes noon 'till night with anklets of turquoise and jade She riddled wars and froze the moon In silence, she slept on pitch and ink and gained momentum for her dance on edges burnt risky with rhythm.